The New Face of Gotham
by Ash M. Knight
Summary: Chaos and fighting ensues as heroes take refuge at Wayne Manor to save Gotham. Batman, Superman, Nightcrawler, Phoenix, Wolverine, Green Lantern, , Cyclops, The Flash, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Nightwing, and Robin, Capt. America, Beast, Hulk, Iron Man.
1. Chapter 1

The morning after hurt. It was like waking up from a terrible dream, only to find that he hadn't really been dreaming at all. The fact was, it was entirely real. In all of Batman's days as a hero, he'd been through many a strange encounter. However, none seemed to surpass or even come close to the previous night.

Sunlight poured in like water, splashing over his hard, naked body - or at least what was showing and not hidden underneath the thin, elegant white bed sheet. What was hidden was warmed by heat of the sun, and what wasn't hidden - the majority of his chiseled body - was bathed in light like a roman god sent down from the heavens. Soft, peachy skin mingled with milky white linens, disrupted by the deep, black darkness of his hair, which had once been a soft brown color but had blackened with age and responsibility.

The image was tainted, too, by the pool of red that cloaked the bottom of his face like a mask. It dribbled down his chin and over his collar bones - deep, moist, and glistening. Upon waking, a groan of agony and frustration passed through the playboy's vocal chords. The noise surprised even his own ears and stirred him further into consciousness.

"Fuuuck," he nearly sobbed. His hands reached up, wiping away the wet, sticky substance on his face. "Fuck!" His next automatic movement was to shield his sensitive eyes from the rays gushing in hurriedly to assault his retinas. Master Wayne was no longer used to the daylight he so rarely saw, and it stung his eyes like the foulest of lemons.

"Hey... Hey there, Bats... Don't do that, okay? Don't touch it..." a voice cooed softly.

The foreign noise caused the young hero to jump nearly right out of bed as his head whipped around in search of the source. When he found it, he scowled, quickly gathering and piling the sheets over himself, so as not to be exposed. "What the hell are you doing here?" the bat growled, scowling sleepily at the intruder who was laying calmly next to him, as if it were the most natural place in the world to be.

"Come now, Bruce. Don't be such a sourpuss. You're gonna have to let somebody stitch those up before they heal and-"

"I don't need your help, Rayner!" the batman screamed, scowling with as much intense purpose as he could manage while throwing a pillow at the young man beside him. "How did you get in?"

With a sigh, the gentleman beside the hero scooted less-than-cautiously closer and rested a hand on Bruce's lower back. "Alfred called me, buddy. Said you wouldn't listen to anyone and that you needed help. He told me what happened with you and Jack, and I just th-"

"Don't call him Jack! You don't even know him! It's Joker to you." Bruce's face became dark and sullen as he turned away - away from his friend, away from the window, and away from the light. "That's how you always saw him, anyway. Just a villain."

"Listen, Bruce," his friend protested, "I'm sorry about what happened to you. I really am. I'm not here to judge you or... or anything. I'm just here to help you get healed up. That's all. I promise."

The bat was unsure. His graceful but worn fingers gripped the bedsheets and turned the fabric over over in his hands, as if looking for the answers in the tiny threads. He didn't find it there, but he responded nonetheless, although seemingly unsure of himself. "Why are you in bed with me? And why am I naked? It's just you, right? Nobody else is here...?"

The young man laughed at the stream of questions, patting his friend's shoulder. "Your face was bleeding pretty badly. I didn't want to leave. I was wiping it and cleaning it and trying to get it to stop all night. I would have sewn it up, but I would have had to wake you, and I think if I'd done that... well.. I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you. I'd be downstairs in the creepy dungeon I'm sure you have somewhere being tortured by Alfred for intruding on your personal bubble."

The way Bruce shot back like lightning made Kyle think he was almost feeling better. "So, stripping me naked and sleeping with me is your way of not intruding on my personal bubble?"

"Oh, Brucie. You always were so angry," he giggled back, scooting just a bit closer. "You're naked because you were sweating. You had a fever. You didn't react well to the medications... and I think you went into shock. You should take it easy today. And no... no one else is here. Don't worry, Batman. It's just me today."

"Today?" Bruce screamed. "You'd better not think of parading any more of you costumed bafoons through here to stare at my face, or I'll have ALL of you killed! I don't CARE if civilians die!"

"Brucie!" Kyle laughed, finally feeling brave enough to wrap and arm around the man's bare, muscular shoulders to pull him into a warm embrace. "Do calm down, Batsy. All the yelling and excitement is going to make you bleed more and you've already lost a lot of blood. We should really hook you up to a-"

"I don't want to be hooked up to anything, Kyle! I'm fine! Can't you see, I'm fine?"

There was a silence that passed between the two of them, like a novel read aloud using only breaths. When it was over, the Green Lantern sighed. "No, Bruce... I don't see that. You look like...like doody."

The two laughed, but only awkwardly, for the realization had struck Bruce, then, too. It was bad. In fact, he wasn't even sure how he was speaking. After so many years training as a superhero and as a ninja warrior, he had a high pain tolerance - but this was too much. It hurt to move his lips. It hurt to breathe, to talk... It hurt to think about breathing or talking! And that he couldn't stop doing.

"I know... I know, it's bad..."

"It's all right, Bats! We'll have you cleaned up in no time. If you're a good little battyboy and stay real still, you should be left with nothing more but two thin, smooth, straight scars. I'm sorry to say they'll never go away, Brucie, but... but I still think you look-"

"Don't, Kyle. Please. Let's just do this and get it over with," the hero sighed, his voice heavy with pain. "Alfred!" he called. "Can we get some brandy in here, or something? Whiskey? Vodka? Anything? Please...?"

When the butler finally brought the liquor, the Green Lantern took his friend's hand tenderly in his own - a gesture not returned by the batman - and looked deeply into his eyes. "Are you ready?"

"Not at all. Let's do it."


	2. Chapter 2

"See?" he begged. "It doesn't look so bad."

The Green Lantern my have been willing to speak, but the butler was certainly going to be silent. He knew better than to give Master Wayne a chance for a witty, bitter comeback. Oddly, though, he found that his young employer said nothing. The man simply stared - dazed, almost somewhere else entirely - into the mirror.

The mirror is a place many men have lost themselves. But Bruce had a different experience; he was finding himself in the glass - in the face of the man staring back at him. It may not have been what he wanted to see, but it was truth, and it was whole. Simply Bruce - nearly naked, still, and staring back at himself. Handsome and strong he stood, but with sad, tired eyes. 'Lantern had those too, but there was a spark behind his that seemed to push the darkness and the shadows of death out of the way - out of the way to make room for new, fresh, beautiful life.

This was something Bruce hadn't learned to do. Since his parents' death, he'd never really been the same. After all, how is a kid supposed to grow up normally without his parents? He was practically raised by the butler. Not that Alfred wasn't a good caretaker - he was. It was just that nothing could compare to Thomas and Martha Wayne. He missed his family. And it wasn't as if that one tragedy had ruined his whole outlook on life. Years and years of fighting crime and corruption had done that. At least that was something even Kyle Rayner could understand.

They shared the responsibility of being more capable than others of protecting the human race. They had talents that made them born heroes. It was their destiny, their job, their life, and - sadly, for Bruce - their fate. When Bruce saw his face in the mirror, he wasn't quite sure what to think. The scars were certainly not as thin and straight as Kyle had promised. But deep down, he knew they wouldn't be.

"He never told me," Bruce began weakly as his butler left the bathroom, "what happened. With his scars. You know? He never told me. Do you think..." He paused to take a breath and then began again, just a little stronger, as he turned towards his friend. "Do you think that's what made him a villain? The way my parents' death made me a hero? ...Do you think this is going to make me evil?"

"Bruce..." Kyle began sadly, pulling the half-naked superhero into his arms. "Batsy... Just one encounter, just one bad day, doesn't change a man's whole life. You are who you choose to be."

"You think Jack chose this?" Bruce sobbed, falling into the strong, unearthly arms of the 'Lantern. "You think I chose to be this?"

This question took careful thought and puzzling. While searching for his conclusion, Kyle - unlike Bruce - stayed calm and quiet, softly pushing his fingers through Bruce's messy midnight hair. "Yes," he finally concluded. "I do. We all choose our own paths, Batman. I chose to take up this ring just like you choose every night to put on that batsuit and fly around like a pretty drag queen."

"Kyle!" Bruce fussed, hitting his fist against the solid chest of his fellow superhero. "You're such an asshole."

"I know," he giggled. "That's why you wouldn't date me, remember?"

The batman looked up, tears still glimmering in his eyes. "Kyle," he sighed, "that's not why I wouldn't date you. You're just too immature. It would never work anyway. I'm too cynical for a consistently optimistic guy like you."

For the first time since he'd arrived, the Green Lantern seemed to dim and grow down-hearted. "That's not what you were thinking when I kissed you," he mumbled weakly. This, of course, caused the other hero to turn away and continue to examine himself in the mirror. It looked like someone had taken a chainsaw, rather than a thin, sharp blade, to his face.

"I'll never look at another blender again. I look like a fucking frozen drink," Bruce laughed sadly. His friend said nothing. At least not out loud.


	3. Chapter 3

"So you mean to tell me," Batman pressed, leaning his strong, heavy hands on the dining room table, "that you really have nowhere to hold meetings?"

"Batman," Kyle sighed, shrugging his shoulders, as if turning the problem over the universe, "we don't even have a definite team together. No one wants in without a strong leader. And you know Clark..."

A laugh passed between the two of them, even shaking the table a little as Bruce leaned against it. Finally, the two were starting to warm up to each other, just like old times. The two heroes, Alfred noticed, were nothing alike all areas except one - morals. In that sense the two were patched perfectly. As Alfred brought them meals and drinks and whatever else they pleased, he couldn't help but notice the ease that suddenly grew between their interactions.

"And you know, Bruce," the 'Lantern continued, "not everyone has some beautiful mansion to hide out in, like you. We're stuck in underground tunnels, hiding from villains and trying hard to avoid the rats and the sewage." The statement was meant in jest but delivered in a melancholy fog. Kyle Rayner was not the brains of any kind of operation, so it wasn't like he could really complain. But he couldn't do anything either, for the same reason.

"You're a leader," he pressed. "You lead people with a level head and a determined heart. You just don't have the fist power to back you up yet."

"Now, don't go starting that again!" the bat chastised. "You know I work alone!"

"Yeah, I know, Brucie, but really! REALLY, now! Come on!" With this last outburst, the Green Lantern stood, slamming his fist dramatically against the mahogany wood of the table.

"Hey!" Bruce screamed, standing as well. "Do you know how much that table cost me?"

At this, the two were reduced to hearty laughter and brought back into a lighter conversation which continued on until dinnertime, when the two decided to settle down on the couch with their meals - prepared with love by his butler - and watch a movie.

"Do you think," Bruce began with a yawn, "that Gotham will ever truly understand what it is to be a superhero? Do you think we'll ever get a break, Rayner?"

With a chuckle, the gentleman beside him shrugged his shoulders good naturedly. "No one who hasn't felt the weight of the responsibility could ever understand it, buddy. I'm sorry."

The master of Wayne Manor turned this over in his head as he ate and pretended to watch the movie. Something about the awkward silence - mostly that it was awkward - made Bruce think Kyle wasn't really watching, either. His face was starting to hurt again, and as he chewed through his meal of chicken, corn, and mashed potatoes, he could feel small amounts of blood seeping into his food.

"K-Kyle..."

"Kyle, I... my mouth... I think..."

"Hey, Kyle, I'm..."

As Mr. Rayner finally turned his head to acknowledge his friend, he blushed with anxiety as he watched the young man literally collapse on the couch. "Bruce!" he begged. "Hey, buddy, come on! Wake up!" Though tap and prod and poke as he might, the bat was out cold. The 'Lantern's hands shook a little as he let them rest on Bruce's chest. "Bruce? You need to wake up, okay? Because... Because..." he sniffled. "Because I'm gonna feel really bad if you're not okay. And. And we need you, Bruce. We need you to lead a team for us. We need you to... to... I need you t-... Bruce?"

The hero's head wiggled a little, and he squirmed under the gentle weight of Kyle's hands. Blood was dripping a little, but not badly enough for either of them to be really worried. Still, the fact that he'd fallen unconscious wasn't exactly a good sign. His head spun a little as he looked up and saw three of his friend. That probably wasn't good either. "K-K-Kyle?" he moaned, squirming. This quick, forceful movement only served to send his head spinning faster.

"Shhh... be still," Kyle whispered softly. His voice had the intensity of an opera singer and the gentleness of a hummingbird. Often times this threw off Bruce's senses and made him feel strange, but that night, he found it comforting. With gentle ease, Kyle lowered himself down between Bruce's leg's and rested his own head - heavy with worry - onto his chest. The bat was in too much pain to protest. Alfred, who had seen the incident, was already on his way to get his employer some pain medication as Bruce simply stared numbly at the vivid greenness of the 'Lanterns sweater.

"Just rest, Bruce. It's all right. You really need to take it easy tonight," Kyle sighed, running his fingers through the batman's hair with big, patient fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

At the head of the long, intimidating conference table, Bruce prepared to make his speech. So many of his friends, allies, and colleagues were there, sitting before him, waiting for him to talk. Behind his new mask - one that covered almost everything - his scars burned. What did they want him to say? Even joined together, it was doubtful they'd work well together. They never had, and they probably never would.

"You're all here because the Green Lantern asked me to speak to you. And I am here because I believe that he is right in what he asks us to do. You all have abilities. But what Gotham does not know is that you are all individuals. You are not one crime fighting force sent by God to defend this city. You have lives, families, interests, and hobbies. I only ask that you come together as individuals, in a team led by myself, to share in the one hobby we all share: fighting crime, and taking care of this city."

There was a pause in the conference room before a few people leaned in against the table to get a better look at the hero before them.

"Why you?" one asked.

"Why me?" Bruce repeated with a smile. "Simply because our dear friend, the Green Lantern, suggested me. If you've any other suggestions, I'm sure we'd all love to hear them. Everyone has a say here."

"Why not Superman?" a voice called from the very back of the hall as the steel door swung angrily shut with a loud 'Bang.'

When Bruce at last recognized the speaker, he simply blushed and remained silent as the Green Lantern stood to defend him.

"Because we don't want a selfish pig of a glory whore to lead us!" Kyle shouted. He was wearing his costume then, and he stood tall and proud near the head of the table, right next to Master Wayne himself. A few people shouted in agreement at the 'Lantern's remark, and a few others shouted in protest. Bruce bravely broke the silence first.

"Everyone, quiet down! Please, quiet down. We are not apes. I think we can settle this fairly with a simple vote. All in favor of Superman as leader raise your hands now," he announced. His voice was masculine and authoritative, and many in the hall gave a noticeable shudder. Captain America, Iron Man, the new Robin, and last, but certainly not least, Nightwing, were all with Superman. The rest, when asked, all rose their hands for the batman.

"I guess that settles it then. I would be... I would be... positively..." Bruce paused and looked to Kyle Rayner, who gave him an encouraging nod. "...delighted... to lead you."

"Yeah, Brucie!" someone howled enthusiastically from somewhere in the middle of the huge rectangular table. This received a soft chuckle and a grateful nod from the batman, who quietly and humbly stepped away from the head of the table to let someone else speak.

"So guys," Kyle started, taking his turn to stand in front of them, "I make a motion to name our League the Knights of Gotham. Objections?"

"Yes," Clark interjected, stepping up to the front of the table - a walk that took him a while and ended up being extremely hyperdramatic. His bulky, sculpted body loomed over the now-sitting Batman as he scowled in the man's direction. "I have a few. Firstly, that someone with no desire to help this city-"

"Get him the fuck out of here," Kyle growled - the angriest he'd been seen by many at the meeting. Immediately, a number of heroes took their cue to escort the Kryptonian out of the building. The two who rose to the challenge were Beast and the Hulk. The two dragged him out fiercely, their veins pulsing with the opposite of mercy, and dropped him on the sidewalk, leaving him to scream and grumble about his vengeance.

When everyone was calmly sitting in the hall once more and silence hung over them, Bruce removed his mask. At first, the silence continued, but then a breathless awe seemed to hum around the room. At last, someone spoke. "Hey... Hey, Bats," a furry blue creature started weakly. "Bats... what happened to your face?"

A dull roar of whispering flared up around the giant table until it finally slowed to await the batman's response. "Since you asked, Nightcrawler... The Joker thought I was going to give him up. To Superman. He was very upset - with good reason - and took his revenge in a way he felt was appropriate. It was, of course, a grave misunderstanding. In any case... it's all over now. The Joker is no longer on the premises and won't be a part of these meetings. I believe it is safe to say that he has made his choice and chosen to... to relapse...

"I believe if we were to look, we would find him at the Iceburg Lounge with Cobblepot, Nygma, Ivy, and the rest of the gang. But I have no desire to seek any kind of vengeance on him, and do not with any other to do it for me. Right now, he is the least of our problems, as far as I know. Until given further reason, we should avoid conflict with him and move on to bigger, more immediate issues."

"Do you mean to say," Wolverine questioned roughly, "that you're not fuckin' pissed at this guy? He took your face! You don't want to beat his funny ass to a pulp?"

"Logan," Bruce sighed in response, "I have no hatred in my heart for him. He's a human, just like you, with feelings and emotions. He trusted me, and he had reason to believe that I betrayed him. I'm not angry."

"Well aren't you the saintly figure, Brucie, darling?" a woman giggled.

As the batman's face grew dark, he responded, "I had no idea you were going to be here, Jean."

"Oh, please, Brucie. Call me Jeannie."


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, the core members of the new Knights of Gotham had decided to stay, temporarily, at Wayne Manor. This arrangement, though convenient for many members of the guild, was not so for the master of the great and intimidating mansion. In fact, he could hardly get a moment's peace. With everyone in a hurried uproar about the new group they'd just formed - ready to get started but not quite finished with preliminary preparations - the leader was constantly being bothered from minute to minute, with costumed superheroes bursting into his chambers ever few minutes.

"Not now," he sometimes pleaded. Others times, "What can I do?" was what he implored them. Either way, he found his head spinning, conferencing with this person and that, re-solidifying old friendships with a few solid, meaningful words in one moment and making new acquaintances the next. Dinner was served to all of them in the dining room, and this was only possible because so many had left, slipping back into hiding or preparing to patrol the streets as things got going back at the headquarters of the operation. Only the core members remained, but even still - even at meals - Bruce found himself busier than he'd ever been - except, of course, when he had met the Joker.

"I can't work with these bafoons, Bruce," a fiery red head told him in confidence. "Do you have any idea what it's like, trying to get anything done with the two of them tearing at each other every five minutes? Do you?"

Clearly, Bruce noted, she was exasperated. But what could he do? It wasn't like it was his place to solve this young woman's problems. Still, he'd been taking on the role of counselor the past few days for many others and figured that it might as well continue. "Jeannie," he sighed, rubbing his temples as his elbows rested on his mahogany desk, one that bellowed of authority, honor, and responsibility. "I don't know what to tell you. We're all doing our best to get along here, and I know we're all very different-"

"Oh, don't you even pretend to be objective!" she interjected hotly. "Don't give me that bullshit. You have to help me! These two bickering idiots simply won't stop!"

"Are you really surprised, Jeannie? Come on. Just look at you, love. You're the definition of sexual temptation. They're both in love with you, and they both don't like to share. You're going to have to learn to respect that. Men want what they want. I know it's irritating to you to have to sit there and watch it, but you need to think about how they feel."

The red headed woman sat back in the chair and sighed. "Oh, Bruce. Your temper is so short, but your mind is so fast you never overreact. You have the coolest head in Gotham, I think. I just don't understand how you manage that, coupled with the fact that you've also got the meanest bite in Gotham. No one here would want to piss you off. Why can't they be more like you, Brucie? Strong, manly, level-headed... handsome..."

"Well, no one still here would want to piss me off," Bruce laughed, ignoring the comments about himself. She understood his reference to Superman. It was unlike him to be so angry, but everyone has their breaking points - even the most valued superhero known to man. Everyone has a right to go off the handle sometimes. Mr. Wayne pulled himself from his digressive thoughts and back into the present situation with a sigh - one that was timed so perfectly, it actually coincided with Jeannie's. The two laughed again.

"Listen, Bruce... I know it's hard for them. But, really, it's not my fault. I wish they'd learn to be more like you. But I'm completely done with them. I am! I don't want any part in it anymore. They're my teammates and nothing more than that."

This received another contemplative sigh from the batman and he gazed up at her - up, for she was now suddenly standing. This action went unnoticed by the Phoenix, whose flaming red hair tossed over her shoulders as her face glowed with frustration to match. "All right," Batman told her softly, standing as well and rounding his desk to put a comforting, hopefully calming arm around her. "Just settle down, there, Jeannie. It's all right. We'll work it out so that you're with them as little as possible. Less time you have to watch them fight, less provocative tension for them to deal with... it will all work out just fine. Now, come on. Let's go get you a glass of water. Your face is bright red."


	6. Chapter 6

Once in the kitchen, the master of Wayne Manor escorted his lady friend to a stool by the counter and got her a cool glass of water himself. In what seemed like one gulp, but was probably tens of gulps, the Phoenix emptied the glass and set it down. She was visibly paler and her cheeks were flushed of color. Both she and her host seemed glad to notice it.

"There. Now, see? Don't you feel better?" Bruce smiled, just a little tiredly.

As she nodded, a gentleman in black and blue rounded the corner and helped himself to the refrigerator. Since Bruce had given specific instructions that everyone should feel at home at the manor, almost everyone there, by that time, felt comfortable helping themselves to the food. The gentleman standing before them, however, seemed less than pleased to be making himself "at home" in Bruce's gigantic mansion.

"If you'll excuse me," Bruce said quietly to Jeannie as he made his way over to the man in blue. "Richard..." His breathing sped up as he step closer, his large, brawny chest heaving up and down at unsteady intervals. The batman was nervous. The man in blue - Richard John Grayson, as it so happened, hardly even looked startled.

"It's Dick, Bruce. Dick Grayson," he corrected. "I don't know how long I've been telling you that, but I really would have thought you'd know my name by now."

"You haven't been telling me that for very long at all, actually. In fact, you only started insisting that I call you Dick like everyone else when you insisted I stop calling you my sidekick and became the pig-headed superhero you are now."

"I'm not pig headed just because I don't like your leadership style. I have a right to be my own mad. I have as much skill as you, and almost as much training. Why am I doomed to be your sidekick forever?"

Bruce sighed, moving closer and lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear. "You're not, Nightwing. But you have to know you were the only boy I ever worked with. Anyone else... I just... You were the only one I could really be around all the time. I just had a hard time letting you go when you stopped being Robin and started being Nightwing." He paused and took another breath to steady his mouth, his heart, and his mind. "I had a hard time watching you grow up. You were like a son to me."

"I wasn't your son!" Nightwing screamed, throwing a can of soda onto the counter behind them, letting it explode all over that half of the kitchen. "I wasn't your fucking son, Bruce! We're only a few years apart! The difference may have seemed big then, but it wasn't as big as you forced it to be. When you forced the difference in age, you forced the distance between us."

His face was growing warm with anger and resentment as he leaned in and lowered his own voice to match the batman's. Their hearts beat in time, vibrating in the small cavity of space between them. "You could have loved me," he breathed, intensity ringing hard like a bell through every syllable. "You could have made me a man with your own two hands if you'd wanted to. But you kept me a child. Like you're stupid little pet. I wasn't your son. I wasn't your son then and I'm not now and I'm never going to be, because I hate your guts for what you did to me."

As Nightwing turned to leave the kitchen - without the food he'd come to retrieve - Bruce grabbed his arm with gentle but persuasive hands. "Richard, please listen to me. You were young, whether I wanted you to be or not, and you weren't ready. Maybe I'm not too old for you now... Maybe I stressed the difference in our age too much. But then, you were too young, and too innocent."

"I was innocent because you let me be innocent! You could have changed that!"

He was screaming again. Bruce grabbed his wrists, pulling him close, urging him to whisper. "Richard! You say now that you wanted me to take that from you, but you just don't know what you're saying. You were a boy. You were just a boy, and I wasn't going to take that from you. Please don't be so upset... Look at your face. You're all red."

"I'm not red," the younger hero squeaked, jerking his arms out of his mentor's grasp. "I'm... I'm..." As the tears started to build behind his eyes, the sharp, hot pain in his throat kept the words lodged deep in his mouth, far far away from being vocalized. "B-Batman..."

"Richard," Bruce sighed, hugging the young man tightly in his arms. "It's all right. I'm sorry, Richy. I'm sorry things didn't work out between us. But look at you! Everyone's hanging on you now - boys and girls. You have your pick, buddy!" He laughed a little, but Nightwing wasn't joining in. He was still fighting back the tears that were slowly forcing their way from his eyes and onto his frustrated, feverish cheeks.

"I do not," the young Mr. Grayson pouted. "I don't have you. You'd rather have some crazed villain who cuts your face open. Look at you, Bruce! You look just like him..."

It was the first time since his speech in the conference room that he'd thought about it. It had been days. Jack... Where was he? Was he safe? Was he still angry? Was he coming home? All but the last Bruce was fairly unsure about. But he felt mostly certain that he would never have the chance to feel his heart jump again the way it did when Jack's keys turned in the lock at the front door. Before he could think further, he was interrupted, yet again, but another intruder to the kitchen.

"I've been looking all over this goddam house for you," a boyish voice announced from behind him. "We need to talk, Batman."


	7. Chapter 7

"You're not to tell anyone else what you've just discussed with me," Batman hissed darkly, grabbing the wrists of the superhero in front of him.

"Hey, don't shoot me, buddy! I'm just the messenger!" he giggled.

"Shut up, Flash. It's not funny."

"How come, Brucie? Cause your little boyfriend is going to go fry up some SuperAss?"

"He's not my boyfriend," the bat retorted weakly. "He's my fiancee. We were engaged to be married."

This earned a hearty laugh from the red costumed hero as he through his head back and let the noise bellow out through the giant empty chamber. It was one of Bruce's many spare rooms. The sadness had sunk so deep inside the batman, however, that he didn't even find himself angry. And he certainly looked. He looked hard and deep to find that anger for Flash, but he just couldn't find it. It simply wasn't there. The shadows in the dark room made the whole scene more sinister, and it dampened the batman's mood. Even the normally-spunky Flash seemed to dim in the cool, musty darkness.

"Your face looks like shit," Flash commented, a little more soberly. "You okay?"

"You didn't even show at the meeting to start this guild. What do you care about me?"

"I just can't stand to look at you. Is that so horrible?"

"I told you I was sorry. I can't make myself love someone I don't, Wally!"

"You could at least try. Do you know how ripped up he was, Bruce?"

"I have an idea, yes," the bat scowled through the darkness. Flash stayed still. Wally West, even in his superhero costume, was not brave enough to intentional provoke the batman and further than he already had. "You're not to tell anyone what you've said here. I will deal with this issue on my own. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not your sidekick, Batsy!" Wally laughed, leaning back against the wall and smirking - at least until Batman moved in on him, nearly closing the gap between their bodies. "But... But don't you wanna do something about it? I mean... Superman could... could... The Joker could kill him!"

"Wally, he was asking for it. I can understand why Jack would go after him. I would, too, if I were him. You should have heard the things Clark was saying about him."

"I don't need to... I can imagine what would be said," Flash grumbled. Bruce slammed his fest against the wall beside the young man's head. "I'm not scared to hurt you, Flash. I don't care how close you are with Kyle. You deserve a good ass whooping. Someday, you'll get one. Maybe not now... Maybe not from me... But someday, someone will give you the ass kicking of a lifetime, and then you'll change your cheerful little tune. I like you, Wallace. I really do. You were my friend. We used to be close. But if you cross me, if you cross the Joker... you'll be very sorry. And besides... what happened between Kyle and I is nobody else's business. I'm glad you know. We love and trust you. But you'd better be careful before you march in here telling me what's what and who I should be with.

"I know you're hurt by what happened, and I know Kyle's your best friend, but if you love him so much - like I know you do - maybe you should make a move on him and stop trying to convince me to like him. He needs a friend right now, Wally. And you're all ready that." The bat shrugged, at last easing out of the offensive position and into one of camaraderie. "Now's a better time to move than ever. And hey," he laughed, giving the man's shoulder a teasing, playful nudge on the arm, "I think you two would look cute together."

This speech left the room in silence, one that hung ominously over them while they pondered what had passed between them. Their friendship seemed to be taking a new, deeper, more meaningful face. At first, neither spoke to break the silence. Instead, they simply looked at each other - watching, waiting, waiting, thinking, until...

The knock at the door alerted them both that something must have been seriously wrong, so Bruce flung the heavy mahogany contraption open with an over-zealous "Oof!" The drama of the moment made Flash giggle to himself in the background. The master of speed was buzzing with excitement. Even in negative situations, the adrenaline gave him such a high that his body twitched and fluttered with anxiousness.

"What is it, Nighty?" Bruce gasped, putting his hand eagerly on the hero's shoulder. It wasn't at all strange for him to revert back to the old nickname he had for the half-demon. "What's wrong?"

"It's Scotty! He ripped into Logan... and... and now... now..." the mutant blurted out, his furry blue skin prickling with excitement. His adrenaline, too, was pumping and driving him on.

"It's all right, Kurt. Take a breath. Tell me what's going on! Quickly, now, before someone gets hurt!"

"CYCLOPS AND WOLVERINE ARE FIGHTING ON THE BALCONY!" Nightcrawler blurted. He fell over, leaning his hands on his knees to hold himself up. He was gasping for air, as if he'd been running, as his figure sunk and faded into the shadows, blending in perfectly with the darkness of the room. Even though that was unlikely - since he frequently made use of his powers of teleportation - Bruce still worried. Both Batman and Flash blinked stupidly into the darkness, not quite sure if their friend was moving or holding still or looking away or what - seeing as they couldn't separate his figure from the shadows - until the Nightcrawler finally stirred them into action and exclaimed, "Hurry up, guys! I think Logan's gonna kill the poor bastard!"


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Batman got the fight, it was mostly over. Flash had ran the whole way with inhuman speed and Nightcrawler had teleported himself back to the scene in a fraction of a moment. The two were pulling Wolverine and Cyclops apart as Bruce approached, rounding on Logan first, seeing as he had what seemed to be the least of the damage. Phoenix was already on the side of her husband, sobbing dramatically with crocodile tears enough to fill a swimming pool, so it seemed that Scott, though hurt more seriously, needed less attention than Logan.

"What happened?" Batman growled, grabbing Wolverine by the shirt collar. "You're supposed to keep the peace! You're supposed to be behind me, ready to support this team and what we're about to do! WHAT HAPPENED?"

As Bruce's voice shook the airwaves, loud and dominant, Wolverine shrunk to the bravery of a puppy in his hands. Melted, as it seemed, he was useless. The shock - and Bruce's nearly inhuman strength - had swept him off his feet so that he could hardly form words to explain. When he did, he made sure that his words did not betray the feeling of anxious, squirming anxiety he felt inside. Though anyone would cower in the hands of the batman, few superheroes would care to admit it. Somehow, if it were even possible, the new scars made the batman look all the more menacing.

"Scott came at me," he began at last. "You can't ask anyone, because it was just me out here, until he showed up, but I give you my word. As your friend, Bruce. Believe me."

Piercing eyes glared out from behind dark, feminine lashes, almost glowing with potency until, at last, the bat grumbled a dark and sincere, "I do."

"He's upset about Jeannie," Wolverine went on to explain, his feet finally planted on solid ground. "Which I understand. I had no hard feelings, really. And I get how he would! I get why he'd wanna fight me. But it's not like I could let the bastard win."

"You should have," Bruce chastised angrily. "This is my house. We're all here as one solid unit, and I expect you to behave that way. You should have taken one for the team, Logan. Next time, I won't be so forgiving." His friend nodded, the small movement of his head large with understanding.

On the other side of the balcony, Jean Grey-Summers was leaning tenderly over her husband. "Scott? Scott, are you all right?" It seemed as though the mutant had been sliced a good number of times by Wolverine's blades, the worst of which being on his back. His shift was soaked, covered, drenched in blood, even if the wounds were mostly not too deep. There would be scarring, but the only noticeable damage was in one small place. Overall, the fight wasn't so bad, but he would need rest and medical attention, which Jeannie was already seeing to.

Nightcrawler and Phoenix together carried the young, devoted husband to his room, and everyone else waited in a wind full of hushed whispers. Everyone was talking, wondering, waiting, until the half-demon returned bearing news of Cyclops' condition. Fine, he told them. Better in the morning, possible the next night. A sigh of relief was breathed by all but Batman and Wolverine. They had other things on their mind.

No one was saying it, but they were all wondering why, if Jeannie so adamantly rejected the company of both strapping young mutants, the Phoenix had remained in the room with her husband. It had been was seemed to everyone - especially Scott Summers - ages since the two had been together. Never divorced, but separated for months upon months. It had even been quite some time since Jeannie had shared a bed with Logan. It was to everyone's surprise that she showed such tenderness toward the man she once claimed to be, 'simply tired of.' But perhaps she was now a different person. Perhaps, Bruce considered, Gotham and the recent goings on there had changed her.

"You're lucky he's all right. I might have had to break your face. You know... for the good of the group," Batman teased. The mood didn't lighten. In fact, the poorly timed joke seemed to darken the mood a good deal. Bruce seemed to be good at that. The jokes were better left up to his lover. But, no... not lover. His ex. It had been a week since he'd heard anything more than what Flash had told him just a few minutes before. No calls, no news, no keys jingling in the lock, no letters, no hugs, no kisses. No jokes, no sex, no love, no contact. It was the longest he'd been without Jack since they had met.

The thought pulled the batman down and held him there, deep in the darkness of his own brooding heart. Jack, Jack, his heart pleaded as he stared down at the lawn beneath them, not daring to glance up at the stars, come home to me. His heart's beating received no reply. No muffled moan, no tortured whimper, no smile of pleasure, no beat in return. Only the emptiness of night surrounded him, and even in a house full of guests - friends, allies, almost family - all Batman could feel was himself.

Thud, thump, thump, thud... Thud, thump, thump, thud...

He was listening so intently to the silence, in fact, that he quite missed his guests departing, all but Wolverine, who had stayed, watching and observing in humble silence. By the looks of it, he was the only one who noticed the bat's odd behavior. Once it appeared that everyone had left the balcony and dispersed to find excitement and recreation elsewhere, Wolverine sat down and sighed, intentionally breaking the silence and, in turn, breaking Bruce's focus on it.

"Sorry," Mr. Wayne muttered. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's all right, Bruce. Trust me, I understand."

This needed no explanation, for they both knew and did understand that a lost love could turn a man's heart inside out. It could turn his whole world upside down. It could alter his entire life. It could could change him.


	9. Chapter 9

That night, when the Prince of Gotham was alone in his bedroom, the shadows seemed to move and shift like flowing water. There was no light to speak of in the room at all. Even the curtains were drawn to shut out the illuminating moonlight. The hall light was off, so no rays of fake sunshine could sneak in under the door. There were no night lights plugged in to any outlets. It was simply dark.

Generally, that was the way he liked it. Even the smallest light or noise would prevent him from drifting off to sleep. Even with everything set up perfectly, just the way he liked in the pitch blackness with absolute silence, his sleep was fitful and uneasy. It came with the job description, he'd always imagined. At least, until he started getting to know some of the other superheroes he was now friends with.

Flash, for instance, could crash in a moment's notice. He'd stay up all night, literally bouncing off the walls and running laps around the continent, until at last, his body decided it was, in fact, tired, and wanted to sleep. At that point, there was simply no waking him. This trait was the source of many a joke, especially from his best friend, the Green Lantern. When Bruce and Kyle would be awake, feeling exhausted but not ready to close their eyes, Flash would simply... shut off, as if someone flipped a switch. He had even been known to fall asleep in a bowl of popcorn every now and then.

The Green Lantern, on the other hand, rested normally. After a long, stressful day full of conflict and worry, he was able to lay himself down and shut off the part of his brain that told him to fret about every single person getting mugged while he was sleeping. For a few hours each night, Kyle Rayner was able to be a normal young man. His dreams were rarely plagued with visions of massive tragedies or small, helpless children in need of his help. At night, when he was ready, he simply went to sleep.

Bruce Wayne could not say this for himself. At night, when he was ready... he fought he demons of the dark in his mind until, at last, sleep took hold of his body and forced his eyelids shut. The only times he'd been able to get a full seven hours of sleep since he'd become Batman were with Jack. Separated, the two both seemed unable to settle themselves down enough to drift off to sleep on a whim. Together, it was easier. Just having his best friend lay next to him in bed was enough to hush and comfort him into sleep, even if his dreams sometimes made that sleep less than effective.

But Jack wasn't there that night, as he hadn't been for the past seven, and Bruce was left to fight with his fatigue on his own. He watched the shadows move and swirl with fuzzy, sleepy vision, until at last he sat up in bed to rub his eyes. The sigh he let slip past his lips was soft, frustrated, and feminine, and he was happy no one was there to hear it. Just as this thought was crossing his mind, a shadow seemed to cross his floor.

The batman rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinking into the darkness, and sighed again. What was he even doing? It wasn't as if he'd be able to see anything in the pure, thick, sticky blackness anyhow. But again, the shadows moved.

"It's just me."

The batman literally jumped out from under the covers, but he refrained from screaming.

"Bruce! It's just me," the voice repeated, laughing now. When the speaker made himself visible, Bruce scowled in his direction.

"What the-" the bat started, only to have his mouth covered gently with a furry, blue hand.

"I thought... I thought maybe you might one some company. I know what happened tonight upset you, and I think... I saw you staring off into the distance, and I thought maybe you weren't feeling so hot, so we could... I don't know. Talk about it."

"So you sneak into my room?" the bat hissed, grabbing the offender by the throat.

"Okay, okay!" Nightcrawler begged, squirming in the hero's grasp. "Let go, let go! It was just a suggestion!"

"Listen, Kurt, you can't just sneak into people's rooms! I could have been... I..."

"It's not like I haven't seen anyone naked before," the mutant giggled.

"It's not funny, Kurt," Bruce sighed, letting his friend go and pushing two shaky, frustrated hands through his hair. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I know!" Nightcrawler beamed proudly, his little fangs poking out. Before the batman could say another word, Kurt curled himself into a comfortable sitting position on the bed next to his friend. "Seriously, though. You can talk to me. How long has he been gone?"

Bruce winced, feeling his throat start to constrict his airway. "S-Seven nights," he managed shakily. "It's... It's b-been... I..."

"Shh. Hey, it's okay. You have friends here, Bruce. Nobody staying in your house, none of the core members, thinks of you as anything less than one of the best friends anyone could have. You've been really busy these past few days. It's a lot of stress for one guy to take on. I knew, when I saw your face in that room tonight, that you weren't ready for this. It's too much for you. But that's the thing... we all know you can do this. That's why Lantern picked you. And you have us to help you. You don't have to do this alone."

Bruce was silent, so the mutant pressed on. "You know that, don't you, Bruce? We're a team. That's the whole point. We're a team, and we're here to back you up. Just because you lead us doesn't mean you do everything alone. Logan really cares about you. I could tell by the way he was looking at you on the balcony. And he knows how you feel. I can't say that I do... but he does. You're not scared to talk to us all, are you?"

Again, Bruce was silent. He was thinking. The thoughts turned over and over in his mind - flipping, swirling, spinning, falling, crashing - until the tears formed in his eyes. "I don't know who I can talk to. I don't know what I'd say. He's out there, somewhere, and I'm afraid that he's hurt. I'm afraid I'm going to fail this team. I'm afraid someone, like Scott, is going to get hurt on my watch. I'm afraid we wont' be able to pull this together in time. There's no immediate crisis now, but when there is, are we even going to be ready? And if we are, are we going to be able to hold it together?

"Have you seen this team, Nighty? We're a few days in and they're already ripping into each other about stupid shit. That wasn't even, like, an immediate, new issue. Scott went after him because of a beef that's literally years old. If we can't even put the past behind us, how can we pull together and fight as one unit? I'm scared I can't lead this team because I've got too many of my own problems to deal with."

"Bruce... don't you know? We all feel that way. But we're all trying. And we're all behind you," Kurt assured him, wrapping an affectionate arm around the man's bare shoulders. "And now... you should get some sleep. I'm sure you'll have another big day tomorrow."

When the batman physically tensed at the word 'sleep,' Kurt knew something was wrong. Gently, he pushed on the man's chest, urging him to lie down and relax. When Bruce reluctantly complied, Nightcrawler yawned and stretched out next to him. "I know you don't want to be alone, so I'll stay. You don't have to ask, we don't have to talk about it. It's just a sleepover, without the movies and the popcorn. I want to be here for you, and I can tell that you need me. All right?"

"Kurt Wagner," the sleepy Batman yawned, "You're one of the best friends I have."


	10. Chapter 10

In the following week, it became evident that Wayne Manor had become a hotel of sorts. The people housed there were essentially the owner's closest friends, anyway, so he didn't really mind, but it still remained strange for him to suddenly have so many people in a house that normally housed just a few. It was also strange to walk the halls, see so many faces, and have none of them be that of the Joker. But he managed to keep himself busy, and most contemplations about the strangeness of the situation were pushed to the side to be dealt with at a later date.

As the situation stood, it was both convenient and necessary for the core members of the team to stay put and lay low. Too many leaving the premises would raise suspicions and alert others to their location and also tip many off about the goings on at Wayne Manor. None of that was part of the plan, and as such, it was to be thoroughly avoided at all costs. There was much to be done and constant coming and going would only make the location less discreet and all the more vulnerable to discovery and, in turn, attack.

That being the case, tensions were high.

The grounds of Wayne Manor were massive, to say the very least, and there was fun to be had by all. The prince of Gotham had multiple four wheelers and bikes and big screen TVs, but they were all still anxious. Many who flew found themselves itching with anxiety and claustrophobia. Though Wayne Manor certainly had everything anyone's heart could desire, the heroes were growing antsy. They were used to action and crime fighting and large areas of ground to cover. All the grass and open fields in the world couldn't compare to fighting a good old fashioned villain in the heart of Gotham.

So, needless to say, things were growing difficult for all of them. Even those who had been close friends before were starting to get on each other's nerves. Being around people all the time wasn't really the best thing for any of them. Most worked alone, but even the superheroes that worked in small groups or teams weren't quite used to the constant presence of other people. Bruce Wayne himself was growing a bit tired of the constant attention - the constant in and out of people all day through his office. It was enough to make his head spin.

Even living with the Joker got on his nerves sometimes. But Jack knew when to give the poor man a break. They each took time for themselves, and that had never been a problem. But then it was just the two of them. Now Bruce had a whole pack of superheroes living temporarily under his roof, and he was starting to go a little bit crazy.

"The next person who walks into my office," Bruce announced roughly to Kyle Rayner, "is going to be very, very sorry." The Green Lantern laughed, but Bruce Wayne simply scowled down at his pile of paperwork. "It really isn't funny," Bruce grumbled, continuing to fumble through the stack of papers on his desk as the 'Lantern put his fee up on the mahogany wood and watched him. "Hey," Batman chastised, "get your feet off the furniture, Pal! I paid good money for that!"

"Yeah, yeah," Kyle laughed, giving the desk a playful kick, mostly to irritate his uptight friend. "I know. You've told me."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, Kyle."

When the door flung open for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Bruce simply through his entire cup of pens and pencils at the intruder. Angry, he questioned, "WHAT?" as the man - who, as it turned out, was none other than Wally West - tried to speak.

"Bruce," Flash began, keeping his poise as much as possible, "you have visitors. They're waiting in the main hall..."

With a stiff, stoic chin, Bruce rose from his seat and pushed past both the Green Lantern and the startled Wally West on his way out of the room. He wasn't about to apologize to Flash for being so rude, but he wasn't about to neglect his guests, either. Irritated with what seemed to be everyone else, he was pleased when his butler met him on the commute down the stairs to the parlor. Mr. Wayne said nothing, but the presence of someone who supportive and familiar helped push him through his frustration and into the hall, the two other superheroes following close behind him to see what was about to unfold.

Upon actually seeing his guests, Bruce allowed a hint of a smile to play at his lips. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, friends," he said warmly, Wally and Kyle still close by his side as he embraced a few of them. There were only a handful, but they would be crucially influential members of the team.

"Dear Jesus," Kyle breathed in Batman's ear. "Who is _that_?"

"Him? Oh. That's Oliver."

"_That's_ Oliver? _The_ Oliver? That gorgeous man right there is the _Green Arrow_?"


	11. Chapter 11

People were getting pretty tense at Wayne Manor. As Kyle Raynor and Mr. Oliver Queen engaged in their courting ritual, a few others around the house were relieving their stress in a similar way. Others turned to violence to get rid of any tensions they felt. This, of course, caused almost as much trouble as the lovebug virus going around - or rather, the lustbug virus. It wasn't as if being cooped up in Wayne Manor was making the superheroes fall in love left and right, but it certainly was bringing people closer and tearing others apart. New friendships and reacquainted old ones budded into romance, and anxiety and restlessness morphed into lust.

Scott and his ex wife, for example, had re-lit the fires of their love in the walls of the manor not too long after the incident on the balcony.

"Scott... Scotty..."

The whimpers bled under the door of the room and into the hallway, and thus, into the ears of all those passing by, including Phoenix's old lover, Logan. The news of this spread throughout the house, since this was the most scandalous union yet to be made public in the Wayne household, and by the next morning, everyone was discussing the intimate even over breakfast.

But, of course, neither of the two lovers heard the rumors pertaining to their lovemaking. Instead, they stayed wrapped in their lover's embrace and remained n their ignorance of the world around them. The only one in the house who seemed not to really notice was Bruce, who was busy formulating plans for the guild and its upcoming activities.

Things went on this way for days and days, and the drama only got worse as time went on. Eventually, it became a fact as well known as Jean and Scott's revived passion that Kyle and Oliver spent night after night wrapped in each others arms. This, of course, was made obvious in the same way most relationships were; doors were too thin to block the noise and many were up walking the halls all night. And so rumors continues to spread like fire until, at last... the heroes had something more important to talk about.


End file.
